Office Hours
by usermechanics
Summary: After a relatively stressful week of classes, Aiko spends her empty office hours relieving herself from the stresses of being a professor.


If it were any other term, the last thing Aiko would have called her office was _relaxing_.

Yet, this term, it was different. Not because anything had changed (nothing had; it was still the same near-claustrophobic small room in some university building nobody entered), but rather the classes that she had taught. Most terms, Aiko would have had at least one graduate-level class, something that led to her office hours being filled with conversations about whatever the subject was at hand. It made her office hours busy, and gave her barely any time for her to take a break.

That wasn't the case this term. In fact, it was the complete opposite. It was as if the faculty gave her every short straw there was and gave her every single introductory conceptual physics class the school had to offer. She knew from the first week that nobody gave a shit about the class and that people were taking it just because they had to; there wasn't a single lecture where the room didn't have three different arbitrary conversations happening at the same time.

And she knew that nobody was going to go to her office hours. Why would they? It was too early in the semester for anyone to bother asking for raised grades; hell, she had only given out like three homework assignments online, and nobody asked any questions about them.

As much as she could have complained about it, she was glad to have her office hours immediately after her classes, just so she could reflect on what had happened in those lecture halls. She thought she had heard every single ridiculous statement that anyone could have made, but each time she entered a class she heard something dumber, something which usually made her bite her tongue lest she accidentally let out a groan-she had to discuss _this _again? It felt almost too concerning to try to explain what position meant, and how to apply it in a way that people that didn't understand before could understand, to the point of being almost stressful.

It had been a very bad day at her classes, one where she answered so many questions that she didn't expect ever to be asked. She felt the discomfort in her shoulders and in her back, creeping through her as a manglement of stress. No amount of pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose could save her from the thoughts of whatever ridiculous questions had gotten to her, and neither did throwing her shirt over her chair, letting the calming, cool air of her office embrace her further.

Even that embrace wasn't enough; it pulled her away from her thoughts for at most a second before she remembered her questions. It left her almost exasperated to think about, her fingers tapping against her desk trying to figure a way out of the stresses of teaching classes that simple, and people not being able to understand such concepts. It was a very far cry from her time spent working with those graduates, with whom at least she could discuss things at a more complicated and nuanced level.

At the very least, Aiko thought ahead. It wasn't that she knew that the stresses of the term would have brought her to having it on her, but there had been something nagging her in the back of her head about this particular term, about how it was going to be something that tested every nerve she had, and thus she brought it upon herself to hide something to help her with her stress, even if she knew that it was too much of a gamble to have in her office on the very slim chance that she actually had to discuss things with students during her office hours.

As if. She was teaching elementary conceptual physics. Nobody was going to her office for the sake of learning something so basic-if anything, they'd head to a few teacher assistants who could easily discuss the topics at perhaps a more down-to-earth level than she could.

That gave her a sense of security, enough of one for her to open one of her desk drawers, pulling out a long black bag, tightened with drawstrings. Opening the bag, she put her hand into it, fumbling around before pulling out a moderately-long hot pink vibrator from its bag. In it, as well, was a small hand towel that Aiko had pulled out and placed to the side, for the sake of cleanliness; it was a small price to pay for doing something like this in a place as public-esque as her office.

As well, for the sake of her cleanliness, and stealthiness, Aiko undid her pants button and pulled them down, making sure to have hooked her panties with her thumb so they were tugged down her legs just as well. She tried kicking the garments off her ankles, but was fine letting them hang off her right ankle; as long as they weren't close to her thighs, the clothes weren't going to be stained.

And with all the formalities out of the way, Aiko grabbed the base of the vibrator with her free hand and twisted, letting the all-too-familiar hum fill the room and her ears. She hummed, accidentally in harmony, to the sound, introducing the purring toy to her body by pressing it against her abdomen.

She huffed, realizing in that moment that if she was to de-stress, she probably needed something to obscure her voice from getting too loud. Seeing the hand towel, Aiko quickly balled it up and stuck it in her mouth, not caring about the feeling of fabric against her tongue or how she was able to taste herself off the multiple times she used the towel to clean herself before. If anything, it was going to help her out more.

Aiko tested the towel's merit as she drew arbitrary shapes on her belly with the toy, each attempted moan completely muffled by the cloth. No matter what shape she drew, or how close she ran it across her crotch, she let out another muffled sound in lieu of the moans she expected. It was more than perfect for the job of muffling, and it even collected all the drool that would have otherwise threatened to leak from her mouth.

Her hips thrust against the toy as she ran its tip against her folds, already feeling her juices starting to leak onto it. Whether it was the idea that she was doing this in public, how she could taste herself in the cloth that muffled her-or how she was gagging herself with a hand towel, the threat that someone could knock on the door and cease her operations, or just an outright need to get her mind off life and letting her vibrator be the perfect outlet: she didn't know why she was wet, but that didn't matter. Aiko was horny, and her vibrator was more than enough to sate that carnal desire.

She circled her smooth snatch with her toy, its tip pressing into her body yet gliding across the hairless, slickened expanse. Her hips bucked, trying to push the toy into her and to cease her own self-torment. In that successful buck, Aiko huffed as it vibrated against her entrance and pushed in a bit. Her toes curled against her heels as she felt the vibrations against her walls, her eyes watering from the stimulation, before she pulled back. Her breathing was labored from that contact alone, and she hungered for more, deliberately pushing more of the vibrating toy inside her.

Aiko began thrusting the toy inside of her, trying her best to develop a rhythm while at the same time not slipping out of her chair. Heavy breathing and attempted moans alike were snuffed by the cloth in her mouth, escaping only as muffled noises, ones that wouldn't set off most people as being inherently sexual. Her skin was flushed, she was drooling, and she felt every beadlet of sweat rolling down her skin, but at least the sounds didn't seem that lewd. As long as she could stay clandestine, in her office, there was no way to prove that she was doing what she was doing.

_Knock! Knock! _

And yet, naturally, someone was knocking on her door. The one moment where she wanted absolute isolation, someone was there, denying her of that opportunity. Her defeated groan was also muffled by the handcloth, the final thing that was before she took it out of her mouth and used it to wipe her sweltering folds. Her pants, and panties, she put back on before putting her shirt over her shoulders, letting it hang open the same way she let it hang open at lectures. It did take a bit of getting used to standing before she could walk to the door, but once she did, she opened the door a bit, enough for her to see who was there.

"Hi, Professor Yumi!"

Had it not been for the person standing there having been in the front row in her last class, she wouldn't have recognized her. Yet, there she was, standing just a bit shorter than her: a blue-eyed blonde with her hair in twintails, clad in a white shirt and a red plaid skirt. It made sense that she out of all people would head straight to her office for help, considering the amount of times she raised her hand in class to ask questions.

"Oh, hey, Tiffany. What brings you here?"

"I had a question that I wanted to ask you to make sure I knew what I'm doing for the homework. I don't need to come in or anything. It's going to be quick! I promise!"

That was somewhat relieving. The shorter this took the sooner she could get back to de-stressing.

"So, I had a question about acceleration. Why is it in meters per second squared?"

If this was the only question that Tiffany had, then she was home free. The easiest way that she could describe it, however, needed a piece of paper and a pencil, things which she really didn't want to go back and get. It'd probably also be too easy for Tiffany to see something was amiss with her if she peeked out any further from the door as well, something which she didn't want to hear anything about.

"Do you have any paper on you?" She asked, pointing to the bag that Tiffany had slung over her shoulder. She nodded and pulled an entire notebook out, before opening it and placing it against the wall so she could actually write legibly.

"So, you know how-"

"Hold on, Professor Yumi!" Tiffany interrupted, reaching in her bag once again. "I need to get a pencil out!"

Aiko rolled her eyes as she awaited Tiffany's hand to re-emerge from her bag with a pink mechanical pencil in her grasp. After pressing the eraser on it a few times with her thumb, Tiffany brought the lead to the paper, ready to scribble.

"So, you know how velocity is measured in meters per second?"

Tiffany nodded. "Should I write that down?"

"If you want," Aiko said. It didn't matter to her what she did, but if writing it down made it easier for her to understand what was going on, so be it. She heard a bit of scribbling before Tiffany asked her what was next.

"Acceleration is how much the velocity changes over time, so it's meters per second, per second. It's usually shortened to meters per second squared, but either way of writing it is fine. It's more important you understand what's going on."

Tiffany scribbled that down-it could have been anything, but Aiko trusted Tiffany was writing down important things like what she was telling her. Once the scribbling stopped, Tiffany smiled. "Okay, that makes a lot more sense now. Thank you, Professor Yumi!"

"No problems, and Tiffany, feel free to call me Aiko. Everyone else does that, even your classmates."

"Okay, Aiko?" It was pretty evident that Tiffany wasn't the most comfortable addressing her professor by first name, but it was a start. "I'll see you next week! Have a good weekend!"

"Alright, Tiffany," she replied, "have a good weekend."

As Tiffany walked away, Aiko closed the door, almost happy that Tiffany was completely and blissfully unaware of what she was going to do next. She ran as fast as she could while wearing heels to her chair, making sure to stop quickly so she could sit down, remove her pants and panties, and get back to work.

She turned her toy on and stuffed her cloth in her mouth before pulling her shirt off her shoulders and tracing her toy across her lower torso. Her free hand grabbed one of her breasts, giving it a soft squeeze over her shirt before returning her toy to her desperate, needy sex.

She thrust the vibrator deep inside of her, each of her thrusts causing her to bite down more on the handcloth. She felt her eyes watering instantly, accompanied by her fingers sinking into her breast and her toes curling. A very muffled "oh fuck" came from her lips, depressingly neutered by the small towel, but that didn't matter as long as she could fuck herself in peace.

She knew that nobody was going to be the wiser, that nobody was going to see her in a situation like this during office hours. They weren't going to see an Aiko Yumi whose wrist slapped her clit with every thrust of her toy, nor were they going to see her with beadlets of sweat running down her face and midriff alike. They weren't going to hear her screams of ecstasy-the soundproofing in her room was more than enough to prohibit her muffled sounds from escaping.

Yet, the threat of that breaking, even for a moment, made her heart beat harder in her chest. There was that thrill of being caught, something which was made even more looming with how Tiffany had done so before. It made her toes scraping against her heels as they curled even less unbearable. It made her bite down harder on the towel in her mouth.

It made her cum much harder than she expected to, thighs quivering harshly as her core squeezed and milked the plastic toy as if she was expecting it to cum back. Yet, it just kept vibrating, and she did nothing to try to push it out of her; she pushed her hand into herself even more, tilting it just enough so that she could feel the toy rubbing against her g-spot. In her haze, Aiko was surprised that her screams were muffled just as easily as they were when she was starting her masturbation off, and that the only difference was the sound of her hips bucking against her wrist as meaty slaps.

Only when Aiko rode out her orgasm on the toy did she pull out, watching as the hot pink toy was glistening just as much as her equally-pink folds. She could have continued, but that wasn't necessarily the point of her doing this. She felt that wave of relief as her afterglow hit, and what mattered more to her at that point was to keep the clandestine tradition as much of a secret as she could.

She turned off the toy before spitting out the handcloth, using it to wipe off the hot pink shaft of all of her juices. Once the remaining sheen on the toy was that of dull plastic, she wiped herself off, huffing at the feeling of the warm, damp cloth wicking at her sex. It took everything in her power not to give one final farewell buck of her hips against the cloth as she pulled it away from herself. And finally, she put the toy away, slipping it in its container before putting it in her desk for safe keeping.

The cloth, however, was a bit of an issue, but thankfully a sandwich bag that she accidentally left in her desk after yesterday's lunch was enough for her to isolate it from the rest of her belongings as she put it in her purse. It definitely needed a wash.

With all of that out of the way, Aiko slipped on her pants and panties before standing up. It took a bit of getting used to once again, but looking down, she was glad to see that no obvious stains were forming; her panties were doing a good enough job wicking whatever was left, and the only thing that made her look like anything suspicious was going on was how she was flushed and sweating, something that opening a window and letting the late summer air into her office couldn't fix.

Now, if anyone came in, they wouldn't have been the wiser. Aiko was ready to chalk up her sweating and her relative indecency on the crippling heat, and if anyone needed to knock, she could just put her shirt on and reduce the amount of skin she was showing. All she needed to make sure of was that she wasn't running her fingers along her body, but if she just let herself focus on grading homework, or figuring out what her next journal entry was going to be, her libido would go down with time.

With that, she turned on her computer, almost unaware that she could have been watching porn to aid herself with what she did. She shrugged, seeing how it was dumb to think about it now that the events had already transpired.

But for now, it was time for Aiko to get back to work.


End file.
